By the time we arrived in Wellington we only had one night in the North Island left. So what did we do? We hit it hard.
Actually, this was totally unintentional. We started the afternoon at the Te Papa Museum. This was the only place we could store our baggage and then waste time weight-free after dropping off our rental car. This museum is pretty damn fun. We enjoyed a “flight” on Air New Zealand with virtual reality goggles, played with a creepy doll where you could control it’s large baby face with levers, viewed a slowly decaying giant squid. The pleasures of the Te Papa never end.
We played in the museum for as long as we could, and went for drinks while we waited for my friend Daisy, in who’s flat we’d be staying. Four happy-hour pints later, we dropped off our baggage at Daisy’s flat and went out on the hunt for food. We never found any. We did find a boutique bar with fancy gins, a lot of beer, 3 lost, under 21 year old American’s looking for a night out on the town, and a lot more alcohol.
Our flight the next morning was painfully early. On top of that, we spent a good 45 minutes hunting down a taxi which never came, and then trying to find and flag down another. It was a pretty close call, and if the airport in Wellington wasn’t so conveniently small, there might have been some running involved, and I don’t think I could have really successfully navigated that hurdle.
Lesson learnt: never fly hungover if you can avoid it.
55 Cable St
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